


Morpho menelaus

by undieshogun



Series: Crossing [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 06:37:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12451683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undieshogun/pseuds/undieshogun
Summary: In many cultures, the butterfly is a symbol of hope and rebirth. In the midst of a war that Eirika isn't sure she should be fighting, a stranger with a butterfly mask teaches her of its meaning.





	Morpho menelaus

**Author's Note:**

> im kind of rusty and still working out characterization for these two but i wanted to get this out here bc i like this pairing. 
> 
> you can find me on twitter @shiirasagi 
> 
> enjoy!

I. 

The newcomer arrives shortly after Eirika herself. 

It is something of a tradition--almost a ritual, really--for the Askran army to attend Kiran’s summonings. It seems there are countless worlds from which to find the heroes they need, each with a grander history or quest than the next, and the army’s curiosity is never fully sated.   

Eirika has only just arrived in Askr, swept away from her home by a bright, mysterious light several days ago, but she’s already attended two of these summonings and finds them to be rather interesting. 

It seems as though there is no limit to Kiran’s power, other than the number of heroes she can summon at once. Among the warriors that come through the gates she opens are rising heroes and long-standing legends alike--and even inexperienced fighters such as Eirika, who had only been in a handful of battles herself before she arrived here. 

Today there are fewer heroes in attendance than usual. Kiran has sent a large portion of them off with Commander Anna, who is chasing a lead on Prince Bruno. 

Ephraim stands beside Eirika as Kiran prepares to summon. Though he’d been asked to join Commander Anna, he’d opted to stay behind, for he’s barely left Eirika’s side since the day they’d arrived together from different worlds. Eirika has yet to gather the courage to confess to him that she is starting to find it somewhat embarrassing that he’s taken to following her around, trying to do everything for her. 

“Who do you suppose we’ll meet today?” Ephraim asks. “Perhaps someone proficient with a lance or an axe.” 

“Perhaps,” Eirika replies, humoring him. Ever in search of a challenge, her dear brother is. In all honesty, it is one of the few qualities in Ephraim she doesn’t particularly aspire to. 

The telltale shine of the summoning stone halts any further conversation, and the two of them, along with the rest of those in attendance, turn to watch as the light grows brighter until it engulfs the entire shrine. 

It isn’t until the light fades that Eirika dares to open her eyes, blinking spots out of her vision as she looks back up towards the summoning stone. 

At the bottom of the great pillar kneels a hero clad in blue. 

“A swordsman,” Ephraim remarks, and Eirika’s eyes move to the slim sword strapped to the hero’s waist. 

She looks back up as the hero stands. Short blue hair, fair skin, and as the hero raises their head--a mask shaped like a butterfly’s wings adorning their face. 

Chatter breaks out amongst the heroes as Kiran approaches the newcomer, speaking quietly. 

“A mask, huh?” Ephraim muses aloud. “I wonder what he’s hiding. What do you think, Eirika?” 

Eirika finds herself unable to take her eyes away from the hero, taking in the lean build, upright stature bordering on stiff, an oval face from what she can see below the mask, and gloved hands gripped tightly around the hilt of their sword. Eirika shifts her weight between her feet, suddenly feeling restless. 

The chatter dies down as Kiran turns to address the army. 

“Heroes, please welcome your new comrade.” 

The masked hero inclines their head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I look forward to fighting beside you. 

“You may call me Marth.” 

 

II. 

“So, an imposter,” Ephraim surmises. 

Eirika pauses in tending to Sieglinde and follows Ephraim’s gaze. 

Masked Marth (as everyone has taken to calling the newcomer) is sitting alone on the other side of the armory, tending to his blade, Falchion. 

“What makes you say he’s an imposter?” Eirika asks. 

“He claims to be the Hero King of ancient times, yet hides his face behind a mask,” Ephraim says. “What’s more, Prince Marth himself already fights beside us, and they’re obviously two different people.” 

Eirika frowns as she watches Marth work, apparently oblivious to the fact that he is currently the topic of their conversation, and finds herself growing restless again for reasons she still can’t explain. 

“I don’t think he ever claimed to be the Hero King himself--just that they share a name,” she says. 

Ephraim raises an eyebrow, looking mildly amused. “Your penchant for defending complete strangers remains intact across realities, I see.” 

Eirika bristles inwardly. “And I see your habit of teasing me mercilessly has stayed with you, as well,” she retorts a little more heatedly than she’d meant to. 

“Peace, Sister,” Ephraim says quickly, sensing it as well. “I didn’t mean to offend you.” 

Eirika bites her lip and lowers her gaze, feeling foolish. “I’m sorry, Ephraim. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.” 

“You needn’t apologize,” Ephraim says, without so much as a second thought. He smiles warmly. “I suppose being from different worlds is bound to cause some differences between us.” 

“Right,” Eirika agrees quite readily, yet the gesture sits uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach. 

Somehow, she imagines these differences are not a matter of where they come from. 

“Anyway,” Ephraim says, pulling Eirika out of her thoughts. “I think you ought to keep your distance from that man. I’m not sure we can trust him completely.” 

Eirika purses her lips.  _ How can you be so sure? _ she wants to ask him, but realizes quickly that perhaps she wouldn’t be happy to hear her brother speaking so condescendingly towards her again. 

“Yes, Brother,” is all she says instead. 

Satisfied, Ephraim gives a small nod and rises from his seat at the smithing bench. “I’ll be off, then, if you don’t need me for anything else. Make sure to remember what I told you about maintaining your blade.” 

“I’ll be all right,” Eirika says, almost a little too quickly. 

Ephraim nods again, and sets off with Siegmund in hand. Eirika watches him go until he disappears out the armory door, then lets her gaze wander back towards Marth, who is sheathing Falchion and rising as if to leave as well. 

Making up her mind, Eirika rises quickly to her feet and approaches the other hero. 

“Prince Marth,” she greets, trying to sound as friendly as she can.  

Marth pauses and, perhaps out of habit, adjusts his mask before turning to face Eirika. 

“You are...Princess Eirika of Renais,” he replies. “Good evening.” 

“I hope I’m not bothering you.” Eirika rocks back on her heels, clasping her hands together a little nervously. 

“Not at all, though you can just call me Marth,” the other replies, and it is then that Eirika notices how smooth, yet oddly high his voice is. “How can I be of service to you?” 

“I was just…” Eirika clears her throat awkwardly when she realizes she doesn’t have anything in particular to say. “I-I just wanted to ask you how you were doing and if you were adapting all right.” 

Marth nods. “That’s very kind of you, Princess, but you needn’t worry for me. This is not my first time being in a foreign world.” 

Eirika’s eyebrows go up. “I see,” she says. “Then you’ve traveled between worlds before…?” 

“Something like that,” Marth replies, but doesn’t say much else. 

It is easy enough for Eirika to realize she’s touched upon something the other isn’t willing to talk about. 

“Forgive me,” she says. “I never meant to pry.” 

“You have nothing to apologize for. Perhaps some other time we’ll get the chance to talk some more.” 

“Oh--well, I would like that very much.” 

Marth smiles, then, something warm and--perhaps even a little shy. 

Heat rises to Eirika’s face and she watches, fiddling with the hem of her skirt, as Marth strides out of the armory and disappears from view. 

 

III.

Their chance to meet again comes sooner than Eirika imagined it would. 

“I’d like you to lead today’s skirmishes in the Tower,” Kiran says to her on a morning just days after her encounter in the armory. 

“Of course,” Eirika replies eagerly, for lately Kiran has been trusting her to command her fellow novices in training. It is perhaps a minor thing from an outsider’s view, but Eirika appreciates Kiran’s faith in her strengths in the face of her weaknesses--namely, her lack of proficiency in fighting. 

“Why don’t you take Marth with you?” Kiran suggests. 

Eirika blinks. “Pardon?” 

“Oh, sorry. You all call him Masked Marth, don’t you?” 

“W-well, not to his face…” is the only reply Eirika can muster at first. “But he’s already such a formidable fighter; wouldn’t he be better suited to fighting with Commander Anna and the others?” 

“Well, even heroes need a bit of preparation before they can jump into battle in unfamiliar territory.” 

“I see,” Eirika says, not quite understanding. 

Kiran smiles somewhat mysteriously. “Just keep an eye on him over the next few battles.” 

Eirika nodded. “Very well...I’ll gather the others.” 

-:-

Masked Marth obeys Eirika’s summons quietly, nodding in greeting and offering nothing else as Eirika arrives at the gate to the Tower. It’s as if they’ve never spoken before. 

Eirika quashes her anxiety. This isn’t the first time she’s led Tower skirmishes, but the truth is that she always gets nervous before battles. Ephraim told her once that she would grow out of it, but she is convinced now that he’s never actually been in her shoes before. 

Nevertheless, the first few battles go fine. 

Marth is, as Eirika predicted, virtually unstoppable. He is quick and precise, but at the same time every one of his blows holds devastating power. 

As the party gathers at the foot of the stairs to the next stratum, Eirika clears her throat a little more loudly than necessary before speaking. It is a poor habit of hers; she does it when she wants attention, but is too nervous to demand it outright. She begins before she can do it again. 

“Good work, everyone. We did exceptionally well this battle.” 

From beside her, Nino pipes up. “Marth did most of the work, though.” 

Azama laughs heartily at that. “We might as well have not been here at all.” 

“We all did our part,” Eirika says, a little emphatically, but Marth shakes his head. 

“I’m used to fighting alone,” he says. “Forgive me for neglecting the rest of the team.” 

Eirika sighs softly, unsure of how to reply to that. 

Marth evidently misreads the gesture, as he says, “I can fight on my own from here if you feel that I’m hindering you…” 

“No, that would be dangerous for all of us,” Eirika says firmly. “We always stay together in the Tower.” 

“I see,” Marth says, looking a little taken aback by Eirika’s assertiveness. “Then please feel free to direct me as you see fit in the next battle.” 

“Well, aren’t we friendly,” Azama remarks, but Eirika speaks over him, as she is quite used to doing by now. 

“I will,” she says, and begins leading the way up to the next stratum. 

Surviving the following battle will take considerably more focus, Eirika can tell. As they hang back against a high wall to survey the enemy, she notices that the opponents are more numerous on this floor, and that the majority of them wield spears and swords. She knows instantly that they are both outnumbered and outmatched. 

“I’ll take point,” Marth says, and before anyone can stop him, he races towards the enemy. 

“No!” Eirika cries, but Marth doesn’t hear her. 

Nino gasps softly, clutching her tome, and looks up at Eirika. 

Eirika hesitates, mind racing too fast for her to keep up--out on the battlefield, Marth is already surrounded. 

“Well, now,” Azama murmurs, looking not even the slightest bit concerned. “What shall we do?” 

Eirika clenches her jaw as she makes up her mind. “Cover me,” she says as she draws her sword and dashes towards the heart of the battle. 

-:-

Eirika peeks out through the opening of the curtains and watches as the healer she’d just spoken to scurries out of the infirmary.  At the sound of sheets rustling from behind her, she pulls the curtains back together and turns. 

Marth is shifting about in the cot, pulling the sheets away and attempting to sit up. 

“Slow down,” Eirika says, rushing to Marth’s side. “You’re still healing.” 

“I’m all right,” Marth says, but doesn’t struggle against Eirika’s hold. 

Wordlessly, Eirika pulls the blankets back up over the injured fighter’s shoulders, then takes the seat next to the cot. 

“I’ve just sent someone to inform Kiran, so she’ll be here whenever she can,” Eirika says. 

“Thank you,” Marth replies, and then the two of them fall into silence. 

With nothing else to hold her focus, Eirika finds her gaze moving towards the lampdesk beside the cot. 

A familiar butterfly-shaped mask sits atop the desk, flecked with dried blood from the battle Eirika and her team had barely escaped from with their lives. She looks back at Marth, at thick blue tresses pooled around slim shoulders. 

“Why do you hide your true identity?” Eirika can’t help but ask, though she knows it isn’t her place. 

Predictably, Marth doesn’t have an answer for her, and merely frowns up at the ceiling. 

“I’m sorry,” Eirika says quickly. “It’s none of my business…” 

“My name is Lucina.” 

It takes Eirika a brief moment to register the words. “Oh,” she says softly. “Lucina.” 

“I’m a princess of Ylisse--or, I was,” Lucina continues. 

“Ylisse? Then…” Eirika tries not to stare too long at the mark on Lucina’s left eye. It’s almost unnoticeable from a certain distance. 

“I’m related to Prince Chrom, but he doesn’t know,” Lucina says. “He can’t.” 

“I see,” Eirika says slowly, and she can tell from the increasingly conflicted look on Lucina’s face that she isn’t willing to say much more. 

“I won’t tell anyone,” Eirika says. “I’ll ask the healers to be discreet about it, as well.” 

“I appreciate it,” Lucina replies. 

Eirika nods, then straightens her back. “You should get some rest. I’ll watch over you and make sure no one wanders in.” 

“I’m fine like this,” Lucina says. “I think I’d rather talk for a little while, if you don’t mind having a conversation.” 

“Oh,” Eirika says, raising her eyebrows. “No, of course I don’t mind. I’d love to talk.” 

At that, Lucina smiles. 

It is a small, shy smile much like the one she’d given Eirika in the armory. 

Again, heat rushes to Eirika’s cheeks and she refrains from replying, keeping her lips pressed together lest she part them and accidentally stutter something silly. 

Lucina’s expression falls slightly over the silence, her smile disappearing. 

“I wanted to apologize first,” she says. “Because of my recklessness, the entire team suffered.” 

Eirika shakes her head. “What matters is that everyone is going to be all right.” 

Lucina’s expression becomes troubled, her gaze growing distant. “I grew up spending nearly every waking moment of my life training to lead an army,” she confessed. “But that day never came. This isn’t an excuse, but...I fear now that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to even be part of an army, much less lead one.” 

“Oh...I see,” Eirika says. “I’m so sorry.” 

Lucina looks up at her. “You’re a very kind person. What are you doing, fighting in a war?” 

Eirika pauses, a little stunned at Lucina’s question. Nobody has ever asked her that before. “Well--I don’t have a choice.”

“You could ask Kiran to send you home.” 

Eirika smiles, but it comes out strained. “There’s a war back at home, too--and it’s one I can’t just run away from.” 

Lucina looks down, eyelashes fluttering. “I’ve overstepped my boundaries. I apologize.” 

“No, don’t,” Eirika says quickly. “There were many days when I did want to run away. I...I’m not a warrior like you.” 

“Is that what you believe?” is Lucina’s reply. 

Eirika purses her lips, unsure of what Lucina means. 

“The sword you carry,” Lucina says, eyes flicking downwards. “You never once drew it during our battle.” 

Eirika follows Lucina’s gaze towards her right hip, where Sieglinde hangs from her belt, next to the silver blade she uses in battle. Sieglinde is so light she often forgets it’s there, but she never goes anywhere without it. 

“I’m not yet worthy of it,” Eirika confesses. 

Lucina nods quietly at that. Eirika thinks about the sword Lucina wields and wonders how it came to be in her possession--and if she ever had to wonder about whether or not she deserved to wield it. 

“After you recover, will you stay and continue fighting with us?” Eirika asks. 

“I will, yes,” Lucina replies. 

“Then, may I ask a favor of you?” 

“Of course. I’ll do everything in my power to help you.” 

Eirika flushes at that. “It’s nothing so severe. I was just wondering if you would be willing to become my teacher.” 

Lucina raises her eyebrows. “Your teacher?” 

“In swordplay, that is,” Eirika clarifies. “You see, I get the feeling I haven’t been improving during my time here because I--I have no real skill.” 

“But your brother is an extraordinary fighter. Why don’t you ask him for his help?” 

“Well, he is the one who taught me what I know, but…” Eirika hesitates, feeling awkward. “Please don’t tell this to anyone, but I get a little irritated sometimes at how he pampers me.” 

“Is that so,” Lucina says, looking baffled, and perhaps a little amused as well by the way her eyes seem to twinkle for a second. “I wouldn’t mind being your sparring partner, but I’d like to ask you for something in return.” 

“Oh--of course. Tell me.” 

“Allow me to continue fighting at your side.” 

Eirika can’t help but frown slightly a that, taken aback by the request. “W-well, I don’t mind…” 

Lucina smiles again, the corners of her eyes crinkling. This time, though, Eirika can’t help but notice how tired she looks, her eyelids drooping slightly as she fights to stay awake for just a little longer. 

“You should rest,” Eirika says. “I’ll make sure no one disturbs you until Kiran arrives.” 

Lucina nods softly. “Don’t forget this agreement,” she says, almost childlike. 

“Of course I won’t,” Eirika promises earnestly. 

Satisfied, Lucina closes her eyes, and before long her breathing evens out as she falls asleep. 

Eirika watches her quietly as she slumbers, momentarily entranced by the slow rise and fall of her chest before her gaze moves upwards. 

Lucina sleeps with a small frown on her face, but Eirika is sure that if she were to reach up and smooth her brow out, she would find that Lucina can’t look much older than she is. 

Eirika looks back up at the mask; then, on an impulse, she picks it up. 

It is lighter than she thought it would be, and feels rather fragile in her grip. She can’t make out what the material is, but it emanates some sort of unfamiliar aura that gives her the feeling it wasn’t crafted by human hands. 

Carefully, she raises it to her face. 

For a second, everything is dark. 

Then, her sight adjusts as light filters through the narrow slits in front of her eyes. Eirika blinks a few times, then stands and sweeps her gaze across the room. 

The first thing she notices is the sheer number of blind spots the mask creates. In fact, she’s certain she would barely be able to complete a typical household errand wearing it, never mind fight as well as Lucina can. It makes her wonder what it is that makes Lucina feel as though she has to risk her own life to protect her identity. 

Perhaps there is some sort of power the mask affords her, Eirika figures, or maybe it simply makes her feel braver. 

Eirika waits. The mask is a light but unfamiliar weight against the bridge of her nose. In the background, she hears Lucina’s deep, steady breathing. Nothing seems to change. 

Eirika isn’t sure what she was expecting, but all she feels is confused--and a little silly, as well. 

She takes the mask off and places it down gently. Then, she sits back down and goes back to watching Lucina sleep. 

 

IV. 

Eirika falls hard on her backside, breath leaving her with a loud  _ whoosh _ . She groans and tries to rise back to her feet, but the pain radiating up her tailbone makes her legs weak. 

Lucina, her mask perched on her face, stands over her with her training sword raised. 

“Your opponent will always take the opportunity to finish you while you’re down. It would benefit you to learn how to push through the pain and reduce your openings.” 

“I-I’m sorry,” Eirika says, trying once again to struggle to her feet. 

Lucina lowers her sword and offers a hand. “Don’t apologize. Just remember.” 

Eirika takes the proffered hand and allows the other to help her off the ground. “I can go again,” she says, tightening her grip around her sword and falling back into her stance, but Lucina shakes her head.

“Let’s take a break,” Lucina says. “Knowing when to rest is an important part of becoming a better soldier, as well.” 

“Oh...right.” Eirika follows Lucina off the training fields and towards the edge of the castle grounds, where there are fewer soldiers about. 

Lucina unbuckles her cape and lays it over the ground, then takes a seat and removes her mask before beckoning at Eirika to join her. 

Eirika takes the space Lucina left her, their shoulders brushing as she settles onto the cape. She’d hesitated the first time they’d done this, but it is comfortable now for them to simply spend some quiet time together after their training sessions. 

“I hope I wasn’t too harsh on you today,” Lucina says. “I don’t have much experience in teaching.” 

“I’m grateful for your help, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t hold back on me,” Eirika says. “I just hope I’ve been improving.” 

“It’s only been a few days since we began,” Lucina says. Eirika’s heart sinks, but then Lucina continues on. “You have been getting better, though. You’re a fast learner, and you have a solid grasp on the basics already, thanks to what your brother taught you.” 

Eirika nods, processing all of this. “Thank you,” she says. “For being so patient with me.” 

“You told me you had never been formally trained in swordplay,” Lucina comments. 

“Yes. I spent the majority of my time studying, which I’m afraid hasn’t come into much use over the course of this war.” 

Lucina appears to ponder this for a while before offering her reply. 

“A soldier’s role is over when the fighting ends,” she says, “but the war itself is not over for a kingdom as a whole until its leader has restored it to its former state--or made it greater still.” 

“I...am not the heir to the throne,” Eirika says. 

“I know, but you are still a leader to your people,” Lucina replies. “I confess I don’t know much about your brother, but I get the feeling he will be relying on you heavily when the time comes for the two of you to restore your kingdom.” 

Lucina’s kind words, coupled with the small, confident smile she wears, once again throws Eirika into a bout of restless fidgeting. She tugs at the hem of her skirt, staring at the grass in front of them as she asks, 

“Do you have anyone like that in your world? Someone to pick up the pieces after the fighting is over?” 

“Well...yes and no,” Lucina replies. “It’s a bit complicated.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I told you that I’ve traveled between worlds before, right?” 

Eirika nods, remembering the vague reply Lucina had given her during their first meeting. 

“Of the two worlds I’ve been to besides Askr, one of them has lost that person,” Lucina said. “One of them has yet to. I’m fighting to keep it that way.” 

“Ah,” Eirika says quietly. “I’m...sorry for always prying.” 

“On the contrary, it’s refreshing that I can talk to someone about this, even if I can’t tell you everything,” Lucina says. “I always thought I would be wearing this mask until the day I died--or disappeared.” 

Eirika hesitates to ask the difference between the two. She looks down at Lucina's mask, and instead a different question comes to mind. "Why did you choose that mask?" 

Lucina picks her mask up, turning it in her hands. "In my land, the butterfly is a symbol of hope and rebirth. It's something I have been fighting desperately for for as long as I can remember, and this mask reminds me of that and gives me the strength to continue on."  

"Hope and rebirth," Eirika echoes. "There's not much I wouldn't give for the strength to bring that to my world, as well." 

"You don't need a mask to find what you seek," Lucina says. "You and I are different in that respect." 

 Eirika is unsure of what Lucina means by that, and thus does not know how to reply. 

Lucina looks up. “I hear Kiran plans on asking you to lead a team out in a few days.” 

“Oh,” Eirika says, caught off guard by the sudden change in subject. “Yes, in five days’ time.” It will be her first time in a battle outside of the Tower. 

“You are at liberty to choose whomever you wish to take with you, but I thought I would ask--will you consider allowing me to fight beside you as per our deal?” 

Eirika pauses, uncertain. “Surely Commander Anna has already asked you to fight under her...” 

“She has, but I’m not quite ready to join those ranks just yet,” Lucina confesses. “I feel safer with you.” 

“I see,” Eirika says. “In that case, I would very much appreciate your assistance in the upcoming battles.” 

Lucina smiles. “I look forward to fighting by your side again.” 

 

V. 

Eirika lets out a sigh of relief as she sheathes her sword, fatigue starting to weigh down on her bones. She turns to survey her team. 

Nino is unscathed, but looking worn. She hadn’t closed her tome once throughout the entire battle, and is probably the most exhausted of everyone. Lukas had taken a great number of hits for all of them, though Eirika can see that he hasn’t suffered any severe injuries. Eirika herself will be spending some time with the healers back at the castle, but the shallow cut across her abdomen is nothing she hasn’t come back from before. 

And Lucina--she has some bumps and scrapes as well, but she carries herself as though she doesn’t feel a thing. 

“Shall we continue our advance?” Lucina asks. 

Eirika looks up at her. Lucina’s mask sits upon the bridge of her nose, unmoved, and her long hair remains expertly tied and pinned up against her head. She stands with her back straight as she awaits Eirika’s orders, hand resting against the hilt of Falchion. Truly, Lucina is on a level of her own. 

“I’m sorry,” Eirika says. “We would only slow you down in this state.” 

Lucina follows Eirika’s gaze to where Nino is applying some rudimentary first aid to Lukas’s wounds, the two of them chatting amiably with tired smiles. 

“I see,” Lucina says, a small frown forming on her brow. “I should have been paying more attention.” 

“We’ll be retreating and regrouping for now,” Eirika says, hoping she hasn’t disappointed Lucina. 

Lucina merely nods. “Understood.” Then, without another word, she turns to assist Lukas to his feet, and the team makes its way back to Askr. 

 

VI. 

Eirika places the orbs carefully into Kiran’s outstretched hands. “The enemy surrendered these to us.” 

“Excellent,” Kiran replies, eyes shining in a manner reminiscent of the way Commander Anna’s often do when the subject of gold comes up. 

“I hope it’s enough,” Eirika says. 

Kiran smiles at her. “You did great, Eirika. I’m glad I sent you out.” 

“Th-thank you,” Eirika says, surprised. She watches as Kiran tucks the orbs into a pocket somewhere beneath her robes before taking a seat at her desk to make note of something. 

It is quiet inside Kiran’s study, the only noise being that of the fire in the gas lamp flickering every once in a while and the scratch of Kiran’s quill against parchment. Eirika finds herself unwilling to leave while something itches at the back of her mind, and she takes advantage of the fact that Kiran has yet to officially dismiss her.  

“Erm...Kiran?” 

“Hm?” 

“I had a question about Marth. That is, Masked Marth.” 

Kiran places her quill down and turns her attention on Eirika. 

“Why don’t you send him out with the more skilled fighters?” Eirika asks. “Surely he would be more suited among his peers rather than novices such as--myself.” 

“Hm,” Kiran says, pressing her lips together. “Well, setting aside the fact that you hardly qualify as a novice anymore, I’ve actually offered many times, but Lucina herself specifically requested that I let her battle at your side.” 

Eirika’s eyes grow wide at Kiran’s casual use of Lucina’s real name, but Kiran chuckles. 

“It’s just us in here,” she tells Eirika. 

“Did Lucina ever give you a reason as to why…?” 

“Why she’s taken an interest in you?” 

Eirika feels heat rise up the back of her neck at Kiran’s choice of words. “Well, yes.” 

For some reason, Kiran is beaming. “No idea. I suppose you’ll just have to ask her yourself.” 

“Oh. Right, well...I suppose I’ll do that, then,” is the best reply Eirika can come up with. “Please excuse me.” 

“Eirika,” Kiran says, stopping her. Her expression has turned serious. “I need you to know that you belong here. Please don’t ever doubt that.” 

Eirika clasps her hands together, moved by Kiran’s sudden display of sincerity, and manages a small but genuine smile. “Thank you.” 

-:-

That night, Eirika finds Lucina in the barracks, sitting in one of the lounges that often tends to be empty at night because of the cold draft that always finds its way inside, even when the windows are closed.

Lucina is seated alone on a large armchair, staring out at the clear, star-filled sky. Her mask sits on the small table beside her, and her hair is loose over her back. 

Eirika watches her for a moment, entranced by the serene look on her face. Lucina usually looks so serious every time she takes off her mask. Eirika wishes she knew what to say that could put Lucina so at ease as she looks now--or perhaps Lucina only ever truly relaxes when she is alone. 

Reluctantly, Eirika steps in the room. “Good evening,” she says. 

Lucina’s gaze lingers out the window for a moment, as if she hadn’t heard Eirika, before she turns. “Eirika...hello.” 

“I hope I’m not intruding,” Eirika says. 

“Of course not,” Lucina says. She moves aside and gestures at Eirika to join her on the armchair. “This is as much your space as it is mine.” 

Quietly, Eirika takes a seat. Lucina’s warmth at her side is a welcome relief against the chilly night air drifting into the room, and she gathers her courage. 

“I hope you aren’t upset with me.” 

Lucina’s eyebrows go up in mild alarm at that. “Why would I be upset with you?” 

“The battle today...I couldn’t keep up with you,” Eirika clarifies.  

Lucina goes quiet at that, her gaze moving back out the window, as if she’s lost interest in the conversation. 

Eirika’s heart sinks, but just as she is about to apologize, Lucina speaks. 

“Have you ever had to face a battle on your own?” she asks, still staring out at the sky. 

“...No,” Eirika replies. “I don’t think I could survive for very long fighting alone.” 

“You could,” Lucina says. “It’s easier than you think it is, sometimes.” 

Her gaze loses focus, as if she’s gotten lost in her thoughts. “And so you keep doing it just because you can. After a while, it makes you forget that you don’t have to keep going alone until you start telling yourself that there is no other way . The goal--the end becomes everything to you, worth more than your own life, and just when you begin to think it’s going to be enough--” 

Lucina cuts herself off, expression darkening with something akin to shame. Her lip trembles minutely before she opens her mouth again. 

“You lose.” 

Eirika’s voice catches in her throat, leaving her speechless. But as she watches Lucina’s gaze fall towards the ground, remorse deep in the shadows cast across her countenance, she realizes that now is not the time for silence. 

“Lucina,” she breathes, ignoring the way her voice breaks. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” 

“Without you there to make the right decisions, today’s battle would not have ended as well for me--for all of us--as it did.” 

“But perhaps if you’d gone with stronger allies…” 

“Sometimes you don’t get to choose who fights beside you, whether they are stronger or weaker than you. If I’d tried to charge ahead on my own, I would have ended up dead--but now all of us live to fight another day.” Lucina smiles wryly. “Granted, death isn’t as terrifying a concept in this world as it is in our own, but the fact remains: fighting beside you reminds me that we are always stronger together than we are alone.” 

“I’m not as great as you think I am,” Eirika murmurs, almost more to herself than to Lucina. 

Lucina reaches out and, when Eirika doesn’t pull away, takes her hand. The thick fabric of her gloves is rough against Eirika’s skin, but she can feel Lucina’s warmth seeping through as well. They hold on tightly to each other. 

“You teach me how to be a follower  _ and _ a leader, Eirika, and those are two qualities you can’t win a war without,” Lucina says. “I think that makes you incredible.” 

Eirika scrambles to find the right words to say, but Lucina’s words (the reflection of the moon’s light in her eyes, the warmth that crosses over the infinitesimal distance between them) have thrown her thoughts all out of order. What’s more, her face is so hot at the moment she can’t focus. 

“I, ah...I’ve never been an example to anyone. There are countless others in this army that have for more experience than I do.” 

“Maybe, but you’re the one who saved my life.” Lucina smiles again, and this time it is that warm, shy smile Eirika doesn’t realize how much she’s been missing until seeing it again leaves her short of breath. 

“I’m glad I did,” Eirika says, her hand tightening around Lucina’s involuntarily, but there is no complaint from the other. 

“So am I,” Lucina replies, and she kisses Eirika. 

 

VII.

Eirika races up the stairs, hand grasped tightly around Lucina’s. 

“Hurry!” she says, breathless but continuing on nonetheless. 

“Eirika, where are you taking me?” Lucina asks, not for the first time, but doesn’t resist. 

“You’ll see,” Eirika replies as they approach the top of the stairs. She braces her arm against the trapdoor above them. “Here, help me with this.” 

Together they push the trapdoor open, and then Eirika takes Lucina’s hand again and leads her out onto the castle roof. 

The air is warm outside, despite the fact that the sun is only just beginning to rise over the horizon. 

“Oh, good. We still have time,” Eirika sighs as she catches her breath. “Come, join me.” She leads Lucina towards the edge of the roof and sits down, facing the sun. 

“Eirika, what is this?” Lucina asks as she sits beside Eirika. 

“When I was very young, my father would sometimes wake me and my brother before dawn and bring us to the castle roof,” Eirika explains. “As we watched the sun rise, he would point out different regions of the kingdom and tell us about the people there--what they did and what they needed--and our responsibilities towards them.” 

Before them, the rising sun begins burning red across the sky. 

“Your father must have been an amazing king,” Lucina says softly. 

“He was,” Eirika agrees. Her chest tightens. “He is gone now, and so is my kingdom...But Askr remains, and we were called here for a reason.” 

Lucina turns to look at her. 

Hey eyes are an intense blue, always made harder by the sharp determination she holds in her gaze. But when she looks at Eirika, Eirika also sees faith, and has come to find that she draws a strength from it that she never knew she had. 

Eirika rests her hand against Sieglinde’s hilt. “Someday, I will prove myself worthy of this sword and help the Askrans win this war...And then I will go home and take back my kingdom.” 

Lucina’s expression glows with pride and she places a gentle hand on Eirika’s cheek. “My only regret is that I won’t be there to see it.” 

Eirika sighs softly and lets Lucina gather her into her arms. She leans their foreheads together and closes her eyes. 

“It will be difficult without you there by my side,” she confesses. 

“So will my battle be,” Lucina replies,” without you.” 

Eirika buries her face in Lucina’s chest and holds her tight, basking in the closeness, the synchronization of their breathing. She has never felt as whole as she does when she is with Lucina. 

After a short while, Lucina says, “The sun is rising.” 

“I know,” Eirika says, but doesn’t pull away. Instead, she turns her head to press her ear against Lucina’s chest. They both grow quiet, and they sit there together for a long time as Eirika listens to the sound of Lucina’s heartbeat.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: _Morpho menelaus_ is a species of butterfly with unique, vibrant blue wings. Because of the iridescence of its scales, the blue morpho is widely sought after by collectors. 
> 
> thanks for reading!


End file.
